Risk and Reward
by wolverinacullen
Summary: Power Ghouls AU; Before they hatched the most brilliant heist the monster world had yet bared witness, a bold attack spawned evil in a risk with sinister reward. Evil's new name...Countess and Devein, the crime lords of vampire kind.
1. Part 1

**Risk and Reward**

_So you are all familiar with the Power Ghouls line, yes? Through weeks of plotting and one stray plot bunny that triggered a little investigation and a lot of interest, this story was born. It was also born as a reward for my reaching 10k posts on my Gory blog. So, without further ado, whether there's art for it or not- I present to you, the Power Ghouls counterparts to Baroness and Destro: __**The Countess and Devein.  
**__I may or may not continue this. Leave your thoughts below in the doobleedoo._

The stale air circulated through the lungs of the luxurious coffin's sole occupant by habit rather than necessity. Gory Fangtell's glasses were tucked in a protective pocket in the lining, her demure features buried into the pillow beneath her head. Belfry Prep's dorms were quiet during the hours of sparkling sunlight, save for today. There always seemed to be one horrid day in every summer...

The sharp rumble of thunder far above the lid of her coffin sounded to her sensitive ears as it would've to any human's with the thick wood separating her senses from the world. The tender quaking of the coffin's perch made her groan in irritation; she _did not _want to go listen to the elements, but at this rate, she would never sleep even closed off as she was.

A soft knock on the lid forced her to stir regardless. She reached into the pocket and produced her glasses from their case, slipping them on as she popped her head out from inside. Valentine, hair askew from his own slumber, stared down at her with a raised brow. "Are you decently awake?" he asked.

"Are you decently sane?" she replied. He laughed, lifting her lid and scooping her out much the way toddlers carried babies. Gory squeaked and grabbed tight hold of his shirt, "Val!"

"Rise and shine little sister!" he replied with a laugh. He set her on her feet with a teasing kiss to her temple and continued out into the hall. Straightening herself and stepping out after him, she sighed, "And where, pray tell, might we be going at this hour?"

"Early breakfast." He barely threw her a glance as he headed down the stairs. A bolt of lightning illuminated the world outside their safe haven only for a moment, but it was a moment long enough to see beyond the windowpane the cast of a shadow across the lawn before the door.

"Valentine!" she shouted. He stopped at the bottom stair, turning only slightly. The door cracked off its hinges. He whipped around and immediately went on the defensive. The alarm system blared, rousing the other vampires in the building in time for the slaughter to begin. A pair of werewolves, thickly muscled and tall, leapt at Valentine. Instinct froze her feet to the spot. To go after him would be suicide, but she couldn't leave him to die. Doors opened, a few students emerging to investigate the source of the commotion and immediately rushing back inside to bolt their doors...all but one.

Bram took notice of Valentine's younger sister frozen at the crest of the stairs, slowly stumbling back as if the silver candlesticks would do her any good against something twice her size. It was suicide to run out to get her, but suicide he could live with. Leaving the door ajar, he bolted across the stairwell, grabbed her waist and yanked her into the opposite corridor. She yelped in realization, seeming to awaken from her daze. Her burgundy eyes flicked to him in terror as he pushed her forward, urging her to keep his pace, "Run!"

There was little they could do with the monsters tearing up the stairs after them. This wing of the dorms was reserved for the lower class students, but the belfry was close. He launched her up the ancient stairs and brought his foot down with a sharp crack into the boards. With a push, he heaved them away from the upper door and swung it shut.

There was a moment in which the cold wind pierced the thin boards of the roof. She could nearly feel the rain as it pounded the shingles overhead. There was screaming, snarling and the sound of running footsteps. Their schoolmates were being driven out, either to freedom or to their own demise. He glanced to her for only a moment before snapping one of the limbs off a stored coat rack.

Time moved very slowly in their hidden loft. Each silence carried the prolonged sound of a pair of vampiric heartbeats until finally, there was a smash. His head snapped up as he realized she had uncovered a mirror and pried the silver backing off a rather large and sharp piece of glass. Her fingers had stopped trembling, yet the blood on them shed the tears she did not have the time to shed herself. "I'm sorry," he said as gently as possible.

The silence of her reply was deafening. She continued to remove the silver from the mirror's glass until a pile of shards remained in her hand, her blood oozing from cuts caused by them. Forming a pocket out of the cloth that had covered the mirror, she wrapped it once...twice...and rose. The longest shard she had remained tucked between her fingers. "Your father...he's a businessman," she murmured, "Tell me, what's the most basic rule of business?"

"It's hardly time for a quiz," he replied in a much lower tone.

She heard the steps below them and quirked a brow. The makeshift pocket jingled as she walked, her silent steps in time with the ones below. As they paused, she paused and met his eyes. The confusion and the horror left her eyes, leaving only a solid sight of merciless joy. "Risk and reward," she whispered, breaking into a sinister grin.

Before he could caution her differently, she threw open the door and leapt forward. It was the simple knowledge that there were two of them, larger than her, that made him leap. She drove the shard of silver into whatever flesh and fur she could find. The other ripped into her skin, claws splitting tender white skin like butter. He had never seen a more wild, ruthless look in her eyes before. A stirring at the far corner of the hall drew his gaze momentarily, just long enough to see the rising and progressive limp away of someone on the stairs.

"Gory!" he shouted. She was attacking without second thought, transitioning between the two and refusing to settle until they were both destroyed. He ripped the pocket of silver from her hold and pitched them up into the air like a baseball, driving it through with the broken piece of wood.

If she heard the first wolf fall, she made no acknowledgement to it. Her heart was pounding in her ears, nearly human speed, the drive and retract of her makeshift blade the thing to set her ragged breathing to. The creature she'd attacked had done as much damage as it could before falling over.

Bram gently grasped her upper arms, giving her a tender squeeze to promise her safety. Her blood mixed with theirs in a pattern of shades of red across her skin and clothes. "It's alright," he said softly, "It's over now. Breathe."

Chest heaving, her eyes darted around the bloodied hall. The tender massaging of his hands up and down from her shoulders to her elbows returned her breathing to normal. She blinked slowly, dispelling the fury from her eyes. Her hand was coated in blood and slipped as it tried to grasp his. "Are you alright?" he said quietly, relenting his soothing to catch her hand and slowly begin to guide her away from the carnage she'd created.

"I'll live," she replied. The worst he could feel was blood seeping from between her fingers from the force of her strikes. Cuts on her palms, healing slashes on her back and sides. She paused by the stairs and waited, looking down at the place where Valentine had been. He thought about telling her, but she could establish for herself what she saw. A sigh heaved from the very depths of her chest.

"They're going to wonder what provoked this," he murmured to her as she returned to her room and ducked into her en suite. Flicking on the water with her wrist, the blood was washed away from her skin in a fountain of white that transitioned to trickles of red. The cold barely made her wince; the pain was bearable as it was. "They're going to blame it on him, you know. If he's not dead yet, they'll make sure he is later."

A small, defiant smile graced her lips, "If. You're joking."

He watched her clean her wounds with a businesslike efficiency, finally budging from his place when she intended to reach into the medicine cabinet with her sterile hands. He removed the bandages for her and twined them gently around her fingers as one would dress a boxer's hands, paying special attention to the gashes between each finger. "Do you ever think we may be useful for more than this?" she murmured conversationally. From the thoughtful look in her eyes, it was almost impossible to imagine that she had experienced great loss and great fury in less than an hour.

"What like?" he replied as his tender dressing of her hands slowed. Her gaze lifted, a single brow quirked and burgundy eyes dancing with wickedness. The mystery of her words alone was enough to snare him into her plot, but it was the way she looked at him that made him smirk in return and silently agree to it.

...

Catastrophe sauntered in to the dimly lit, barely settled little belfry room from her perch on the roof. With a small smirk toward her red-eyed employers, she skittered the collar of chaos across the freshly polished mahogany desk. The sound of it caused both pairs of vibrant eyes to snap to her from the shadows.  
She crawled up on the edge of the desk and purred as she tugged her paws free of her gloves with her teeth. "Stolen from the source," she crooned. The near-silent shift of one of them moving made her ears twitch. She waited, rough tongue cleaning the back of her paw, until her employer finally emerged from the shadows. Tight, black leathers hugged the female vampire's curvy hips firmly, a matching vest with a button collar of a red bat distinguishing her pale figure from the shadows. She perched demurely on the opposite edge, lifting the collar of chaos into her palms and twisting it gently around her fingers. Her darker eyes warmed to the werecat, "You're such a good little familiar, Toralei..."

The werecat could hardly resist purring at the vampire's cool touch as it ran through her hair. She arched, tail twitching, and moved a bit closer to welcome the tender massage to her ears. Her tail snaked up around the vampire's knee, "Mmm...the kitty did good?"

"The kitty did so very good," she purred. Her continuing caresses brought the werecat bliss, her purrs becoming mews as all the tender itches were cared for. Curling up in the female's lap, she murmured, "Thank you, Countess."

The collar was plucked from her grasp by her partner. He took up residence in the desk's pristine leather chair and watched as his counterpart caressed their protege's feline ears. "How long do you want to bet before those meddling little power ghouls get themselves involved?"

A warm smile trickled over her very red lips, "Soon enough, my love. You don't think they'll expect a thing, do you?" Her tone, though teasing, sought an answer. He moved closer and dropped the collar on her lap, "Of course not, darling. But they will soon enough."

She released Catastrophe and leaned back on her palms with the collar dangling through her fingers. "And darling...do make sure to keep that annoying web-weaver from finding us, would you?"

The werecat purred and nodded in affirmation before slipping off into the shadow. His eyes glistened as he raised the bejeweled collar, admiring its pale leather against her dark suit. She laughed and plucked it gently from his grasp, "Not now, darling. Not until the Power Ghouls are near."

"That seems like quite the gamble," he replied, "counting on powers the collar may not grant."

"Every risk has its reward." She placed the collar into his palm and crawled forward from the desk. Her arms encircled his neck and her perfectly painted lips brushed his own, "Don't you agree?"

He chuckled in silence and pressed a firm kiss to her lips as if reminding her of his equal participation in their heist. He kissed her until she gave in, and drawing back simply murmured, "I believe in opportunity, something we have quite a bit of with those Power Ghouls."


	2. Part 2

_A/N- I decided to make this a two shot. I couldn't resist the battle impending, whether we have the entire plot or not. Without further ado, I present part two of Risk and Reward._

Whether it be centuries of dealing with commoners or simply anticipation, her burgundy eyes remained on the video feeds of the precious power ghouls without moving for long periods of time. He watched her from across the room, tracing a stray stone across the edge of his blade from hilt to tip. Her full, red lips looked as if she'd freshly taken blood from their familiar. She was waiting for the golden opportunity, he knew, and yet it didn't make the sight any less appealing.

He sheathed the military grade knife and wandered across the room to her. She hardly moved as he tucked the locks of unevenly cut hair behind her ears, yet as he lowered his chin to the top of her head, she straightened to meet him. "Tell me, _cara mia,_ why does obliterating these little girls seem like such a wild idea?"

He watched the painted red turn up at the corners, her lips shining in their devilish hue, "You will see, _mon soleil_. You and everyone else." Her deviousness was half the reason he remained so enamored with her, though her scheme seemed farfetched at best. He remained at her side as they dispersed from her view, finally allowing her to turn away the footage with a small smile. "They're going to be coming."

"They know where to find us?" he asked, a brow raised in surprise.

She rose demurely, turning to observe him as she paused. He wore a clean-cut, straightforward military uniform if she'd ever seen one, painted black and emblazoned with the tiny red bat of their signified allegiance. "I think you look better without the mask," she commented, turning to gather her swords. If he had doubted her before, he didn't then. He pushed away from the chair and crossed to her, his boots thumping the floor with the force of his steps. She tensed, yet didn't reach for her weapon when he grasped her arm and turned her with enough force to deny her feet planted firmly on the ground. "This is not a good idea," he murmured, searching her dark eyes for any hint of doubt. He found absolutely none. With a soft sigh, she holstered her own blade and slightly closed her hand as it rose. Her gloved knuckles brushed his jaw, "You have to trust me. Don't question me. Just understand that if there were another way, I'd take it."

"There has to be," he replied. She shook her head and withdrew her arm from his grasp. A silent order crossed her eyes as she darted toward the stairs and took off into the lower confines of the institution they were based above.

He hissed under his breath and blazed after her. As he jumped the railing and landed on his feet below, he became aware of the sounds of battle and immediately rushed out to join his partner. The vampiress waited until their familiar bolted up the stairs, yowling in agony, before bolting out. Wonder Wolf lowered her shield in time to be met with Countess's blade. She planted her feet and pushed off, causing the lycanthrope to stumble back. It was an unfair fight, four heroes against two and a half of them. Devein scooped up Catastrophe and glanced to her, "You'll have to make due as best you can."

The feline drooped, clearly having most of the sense shocked out of her from the impulsive Voltageous, "Don't worry...you're covered."

Countess slammed her full weight into the shield, attempting to throw it from its owners wrist. He took notice of the webbed crusader scaling the wall and withdrew his knife from its sheath, "In that case, take your time."

The sharp, surprised cries of Polterghoul and Voltageous as they were pulled away from their team filled the stairwell. With the spider in sight, he took off from the safety of their shadowed hideaway and leapt at the human arachnid. She released a sheet of webbing that he easily slashed through before severing her own. She bared her stingers in an attempt to slash him on the way past, only to have them met with the first knife's mate. "Normally, I don't agree to hitting girls." A sharp clang behind him drew his attention. He caught his partner around the waist, giving her the momentum to slam into Wonder Wolf's back and knock her forward. Her shield collided with the outstretched stingers and drew a sharp, agonized shriek from the spider girl below. Countess swung her blade and caught the lycanthrope across the shoulders as she yanked away. Staggering back in horror, she fell backward at the sight of the spider impaled upon her own poison-tipped barbs.

The twin terrors were hardly fairing well on their own. Unlike his other half, he was not intent on killing children. He descended the stairs while the feline duo attempted to keep the pair of heroes at bay and rammed the hilt of his blade into the back of the more vulnerable electric female's skull. She crumpled to the stairs, leaving the duo to the ghostly female. He returned to his better half to find her dueling, sword to shield, with the equally powerful lycanthrope.

A gentle grasp at the edge of his pants caused him pause. He looked down to the heavily bleeding little spider. "Please..." she whimpered. He could see the toxin was paralyzing, potentially non-lethal. Regardless of its potency, it would kill her if she was allowed to bleed out. "I can give you these," she rasped, "Just...don't. We're on...the same side."

"And what side might that be?" he asked, lowering to remove the blades from her wrists. She cried out in pain, but welcomed the quick implementing of a tourniquet around either wrist.

"The one with opportunity."

There was a sharp, metallic clang. He heard the sword skitter from his partner's hands like the tinkling of a blade, and without a second thought, he lifted both barbs, tucked them between his fingers and let them fly like throwing knives. They slammed in tandem into Wonder Wolf's shoulder. She howled in pain, abandoning the sword for the removal of the spikes. Without hesitation, Countess lunged for her blade and drove it upward, fully intending to slam it into Wonder Wolf's chest. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and did the only thing he could; he stepped in front of her.

The adrenaline in Gory's blood halted. As if she rose from her fury-tinted sleep, the sound of her other half grunting in pain behind her forced her to turn. He swallowed and slowly crumpled to his knees. Her eyes widened in horror at the small, wooden arrows fired from the crossbow in the zombie leader's hands. "I didn't kill them," he said softly. "They didn't kill any of ours."

An emotion worse than fury rose into the vampiress's eyes. They darkened to a shade of onyx hardly visible beyond her murderous gaze and she shot forward. The zombie fired again, the wooden shots bouncing off her blade until it was yanked away. She bared her fingers in makeshift claws, intent to separate the zombie's head from her body when two near silent, identical shots flashed from the crossbow.

With the last of his strength, he lurched to his feet and stumbled down the few steps to catch her before she fell into them. The shots were a direct hit; the blood pouring from her chest was unable to be stopped, unlike his. He removed his glove and pressed his bare hand to the wound, making her arch in pain. Realizing they hadn't followed through, he fumbled to remove them from the delicate punctures and quell the blood pouring from her wounds. Her fingers raised to lock in his shirt.

Her blade clattered to the stairs beside them as the ghostly girl stood, staring in shock. "We have to do something!" she nearly shouted in her breathy voice, "Wonder Wolf! She's dying!"

The zombie who had fired on them groaned. _There's nothing we can do. It's a stake to the heart, any chance of recovery would be slim._

For a moment, just a moment, Bram Devein was not against hitting girls. He grasped hold of the collar of Voltageous's uniform and his partner's blade in the same quick move.

"We can do this two ways, Deadfast...either you can take your slim chance, or I can make sure we all electrify here, save for the dead one. I bet your brains wouldn't look too appetizing fried."

The zombie rose her chin, looking down at the unconscious animation and the vampire struggling to breathe. Her eyes lifted...and she closed her eyes.

...

"Oww," Frankie whined as she held her head.

"We heard you the first time," a very grumpy Widona replied as she rubbed her wrists. Most of the heroes were bandage-clad, save for Ghoulia and Spectra, yet the odds seemed to have been evened up quite well.

Toralei and her two friends emerged from the infirmary, their eyes narrowed and somehow still soft. "Thank you."

The zombie shrugged.

"Are they okay?" Frankie asked.

"What do you care?" Widona replied, "They were going to kill you."

Toralei shot the spider a pointed look and returned her gaze to Frankie before giving her one short, curt nod. It caused most of the heroes to rise and depart, save for the one. Frankie waited until her friends had left to return down the hallway Toralei and the twins had emerged from. Tapping lightly at the door at the end of the hall, she peeked in to see the vampires both very much alive, Bram in the seat beside his partner and other half's bed.

"Hi," she said quietly.

He nodded to her in reply.

"Thanks for not killing me."

He smirked and shook his head, his eyes never once leaving her. "Don't worry about it. I didn't intend to. It would've only caused more trouble."

She stepped inside before murmuring, "Toralei said you guys had the collar...so what did you do with it?"

The vampire's eyes raised as he smiled softly, "Don't worry. It's in perfectly capable hands."

A vague _bang_ resounded on the level above, accompanied by the shout of a not-so-capable counterpart, "_Holt __**smash!"**_

_The End_


End file.
